


The Heart of Deduction

by behindtintedglass



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-12
Updated: 2012-08-12
Packaged: 2017-11-12 00:04:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 7,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/484395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/behindtintedglass/pseuds/behindtintedglass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which a pseudo-scientific method is employed in investigating the curious relationship of the best and wisest men we have ever known. Only instead of allowing logic to fully dictate the study, we let ourselves be guided by methods of the heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Problem

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea how to categorize this piece. It's not exactly fanfiction, but it's not exactly a non-fiction essay either. A tribute? Possibly. A work of love? Most definitely. Nevertheless, please consider this my humble contribution to this already wonderful world that ACD has created and which all of you are continuing to create.
> 
> Like everything else in life, one day we will all eventually move on and discover something else that we will love as deeply, if not more. And so while we are all still here, I want to remember and honor and memorialize the reasons why we have all fallen in love with ACD's immortal characters. And I am hoping that through this, we will all carry the knowledge that ours is a fandom that's as timeless as the partnership of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson.

When Sherlock Holmes enters the room, everything stops. We zero in on him. He doesn't just catch our attention—he  _demands_ it. He's an otherworldly being, clearly untouched by the excruciating limits of ordinary human thinking. He's magnetizing, riveting, vibrant, pulsating and thrumming with energy, an unstoppable force of nature whenever his mind is set on the current puzzle at hand. When he speaks, we are enthralled. We  _listen_ as if we can't help it. When he moves, our gaze follows his every action, every cell and muscle and fiber in his body cataloguing and categorizing every minute detail of his precious puzzle. And then he lights up, quite literally with the way his eyes and his whole countenance brighten when  _at last_ the solution presents itself. His mind is on  _fire,_  blazing through with a trail of logic and facts and observation and deduction, leaving behind cooling embers of grudging admiration and awe, the gripping danger of the case both forgotten and enhanced in the wake of his brilliant mind.

And then our gaze shifts towards the sidelines, and we see the slightly obscured but unmistakable presence of Dr. John Watson. We don't really take notice of him at first—and yet we are gradually drawn to him as well when we realize he is more of a puzzle than even the most elusive and cryptic of Sherlock's cases. We begin to wonder why he keeps reappearing alongside the great detective as a constant and humble companion, as an unassuming pillar of quiet strength. And then we realize that he's there because  _Sherlock_ is there. Where Sherlock is, John is sure to follow. And we come to expect his presence unthinkingly, as naturally as needing oxygen to breathe. Because when Sherlock is without his blogger, his  _Boswell_ , we find ourselves feeling uneasy, anxious, like the earth has tilted on its axis and everything is now unbalanced. And whenever John catches up, as he always eventually does, we find ourselves breathing a little easier, and our hearts feel a little lighter, and an odd sense of calm wraps itself around us even as the world goes on with its chaotic and dull trivialities. Because we know that as long as John is there—solid, steady, and strong—then Sherlock is  _safe._  Because we know that Sherlock  _needs_ John as simply as basic survival. Everything else is transport.

But why is this so, we wonder? The answer does not seem immediately apparent, and it's dangerous to jump to conclusions without having sufficient data. Let us then examine the body of the problem more closely.

 


	2. The Warning

Whenever Sherlock Holmes cracks a particularly difficult case and gleefully announces that he's on  _fire_ , there's a distinct clarification we need to address in terms of the veracity of that statement: Sherlock Holmes  _is_ fire. How we initially described him in the previous paragraphs is comparable to that cliché metaphor of moths being helplessly attracted to a flame—and yet clichés are what they are because of the truth they contain. His brilliance is as destructive as it is beguiling when left to its own devices.

Just as a fire brings light in the dark and warmth in the cold, Sherlock's singular purpose as a consulting detective is to shed light in circumstances when the police are left in the dark by criminals who prove to be far more clever—or when the police prove to be far more incompetent that they ought to be. He is the voice of the dead, all who have long been silenced into cold cases, until Sherlock blazes through with hard facts and irrefutable knowledge effortlessly gleaned from the subtle clues these lifeless bodies unwittingly communicate. He is the roaring fire of reason in the midst of uncontrollable emotion, an unwavering beacon of logic which saves lives much more efficiently and concretely than mere detached  _caring._ When clients have lost all faith that their problems will ever be solved, Sherlock Holmes burns through their hopelessness and despair by proving that it is only a case of mind over matter—and quite literally in his case. He is unrelenting,  _unstoppable,_ searing through every corner of his surroundings, scorching through every hidden detail,reveling in the knowledge that his unparalleled twin talents of observation and deduction ensures that  _nothing_ will ever escape him.

(Except perhaps that "Harry" is short for "Harriet." To be fair, that particular detail during that particular instance  _had_ beenoutside his realm of observation and deduction.)

We should not forget, however, that this particular metaphor regarding fire and moths has been invented to serve more as a warning than a mere saying—a warning to stay away, to not get too close. It is the reason why, before a bullet has made its indelible and fateful mark on a certain war veteran's shoulder, Sherlock has lived a solitary life. No one has ever dared to get too close to Sherlock Holmes—and Sherlock Holmes has not dared to  _let_ anyone get close—because the fire that is Sherlock Holmes  _burns._

It is not because of his acerbic and unapologetic wit or his aloof, antisocial personality, although it is partly that. It is not because he is a little bit autistic and a little bit sociopathic, although he is actually neither—he just chooses to believe so. It is not because of his eccentricities and idiosyncrasies ranging from the mild (such as playing the violin at ungodly hours of the morning and refusing to talk for days on end) to the bloody infuriating (such as keeping a severed head in the fridge and hacking onto your laptop in less than a minute—though the password isn't exactly Fort Knox). It is not even because of his so-called self destructive addictions to nicotine, cocaine, morphine and murder—the last one for the puzzle it presents, and (fortunately) not the act in itself.

It is because his mind is a machine above the planes of normal human existence, a hard drive that is constantly whirring and taking in information, a computer without a power button and is  _always_ in danger of overloading. And when there is nothing to occupy his mind, nothing to  _distract_ him,  _boredom_ settles in. And it brings an onslaught of unwanted information his mind refuses to filter. It  _burns_ him from the inside out, not only because he is  _helpless_ to stop them, but because he has nothing  _useful_ to direct this knowledge to. That is why his work is important to him—he needs an outlet for the data in his hard drive. And he will do anything— _anything at all—_ to stop being bored. Even if it means escaping the own chaos of his own mind through measures that are as life-threatening to himself as it is to the people around him.

And it is here that we pause and reflect on the words we choose to describe Sherlock Holmes, because suddenly we realize that he is not as singular as a human being the way we once thought him to be. As we go over the way he burns like fire, we realize that he is not the only person who properly fits the metaphor. Even as we ascribe these qualities to Sherlock Holmes, we realize that in a fascinating and almost disturbingly equal manner, we can also ascribe these qualities to James Moriarty.

 


	3. The Absence

Curiously, it is actually Sherlock Holmes himself who has dubbed James Moriarty as a "consulting criminal," parallel to Holmes' own self-appointed profession of being a "consulting detective." Regardless of whatever else Sherlock thinks of or feels towards Moriarty, it is undeniable that when you strip everything away down to the basics, Sherlock very simply  _admires_ Moriarty. He recognizes in Moriarty a sort of long lost intellectual kin, one who thrives in games and puzzles, who likes the thrill of the chase and living on the edge, who enjoys being challenged and experiences the need to be distracted from boredom. But what leaves Sherlock  _breathless_ with undisguised and unabashed admiration is the discovery of a mind not unlike his own, a brain with mental capacities that are  _leagues_ above their fellow humankind. On that level, Sherlock Holmes and James Moriarty are practically indistinguishable.

There are, however, two crucial points in which Sherlock Holmes and James Moriarty differ. And it is these incredibly minute distinctions that impact who they are tremendously.

It is not because Sherlock has a deeper regard for people's lives or because he abides by his own sense of justice, although that of course has some bearing. But even though their "professions" lie on extremely opposite ends of the moral spectrum, Holmes and Moriarty are still very similar in the way they relate to people. Both of them care very little about what other people think or feel as long as they're  _right_ , even though the nature of their work has developed in them a reluctant tolerance towards the rest of humankind, if only to learn how to manipulate people into getting what they want. What sets Holmes and Moriarty apart is not their minds, nor their choices (moral or otherwise), but  _how_ they choose to enact the decisions their minds are directing them to do.

To DI Lestrade's eternal consternation, Sherlock Holmes is a man who likes to be _very personally involved_ in the cases he is "helping" to solve. He will barge into the crime scene to examine the body himself, look for (and keep) the evidence himself, and chase down and apprehend the criminal himself. And for all of his professed sociopathy, Sherlock Holmes always deems it necessary to personally talk with all the people involved in his cases, whether they may be his clients, his suspects, the witnesses or even the victims themselves. Whereas James Moriarty prefers to be above it all, unwilling to get his hands dirty, refusing to be involved more than is absolutely necessary. He will have people do his work  _for_ him instead of doing it himself. Both want very much to be in control, but where James Moriarty is distantly calculating, Sherlock Holmes is intensely  _passionate._ This is their first point of divergence.

Their second point of divergence is that when James Moriarty strikes, it is instantaneous. His being distant and unattached provides him with this advantage over Sherlock. Even if we are to put aside his amoral nature, Moriarty doesn't  _have_  to stop and think of the consequences of his actions because whatever decision he makes, it will  _not_ affect him—and more importantly, it will not  _touch_ him. Nothing is stopping him from acting almost on impulse and strike as soon as his mind commands him to. It is this irony that Sherlock shares, albeit conversely. Despite being constantly accused of being rash and reckless, Sherlock actually  _stops_ when faced with a decision _._ We see him weighing his options carefully, measuring possible consequences against each other and choosing one that is least likely to place his fellowmen in the line of fire. On a purely objective viewpoint, this is a fatal weakness on Sherlock's part, for he cannot immediately act as he wishes precisely because he has ingrained himself deeply into the situation. On a subjective level, it is also a trait of foolish bravery that Moriarty does not possess. While Moriarty chooses to remain in the shadows to protect himself, Sherlock Holmes is all too ready sacrifice his own well-being to find the answers he seeks.

Theseare what separates the consulting detective apart from the consulting criminal. Both of these brilliant men are in themselves equal powers of banked fire—but where Sherlock Holmes is a blazing flame of lingering fervor, James Moriarty is cold-blooded fire: an instantaneous strike of blinding lightning. James Moriarty burns and sears through the skin much in the same way Sherlock Holmes does, but curiously, without the scorching heat. Moriarty's fire is pure power and energy with the absence of warmth, a relentless drive with the absence of passion and emotion.

It is notable to point out, however, that there is a third point of divergence between these two brilliant minds, one that is mentioned separately for its singular significance. Because this divergence is not a difference  _between_ them, but rather a difference in what one  _has_ and what the other person  _lacks._ Sherlock Holmes once pointed out that the frailty of a genius is that he needs an audience, the appreciation and applause that comforts him,  _reassures_ him, that it is not so  _wrong_ to be so  _different._ This, indeed, is perhaps the sole reason why Moriarty, after hiding for so long, has risked stepping into the spotlight to lure Sherlock into playing games with him. Because Moriarty must have believed—and justifiably so—that Sherlock Holmes is the only one who can understand and  _truly_ appreciate his brilliant mind. It is all he needs to complete his singular existence. And once upon a time, Sherlock Holmes must have believed the same.

Both of them have that appreciative audience in each other. But unlike James Moriarty, Sherlock Holmes has something else. It is another type of audience, so to speak, but something far more and infinitely far  _better_.

He has Dr. John Watson.

 


	4. The Impossible

This seemingly nondescript war hero now presents us with a baffling contradiction, an interesting puzzle to take apart and scrutinize in much closer detail. After convincingly establishing the danger in being drawn into the beguiling fire of the brilliant addict, we are now presented with a man who has not only ignored the warning of staying away  _from_ Sherlock Holmes, but one who has cheerfully chosen to stay  _with_ Sherlock Holmes as his flatmate, colleague, biographer and—impossibly, no,  _improbably_ —his friend. Aside from questioning the good doctor's  _motivations_  for staying with the sociopathic consulting detective, what we are left most curiously puzzled about is John Watson's  _capability_ to be the willing companion of an eccentric, bohemian and painfully clever man. No matter how mesmerizing, how  _captivating_ the flame of Sherlock Holmes' brilliant mind is, how long will John Watson last before Sherlock Holmes  _burns_ him?

And it is here that Sherlock Holmes might admonish us for asking the wrong question. It is a waste of time and energy to be questioning the impossible, for as Sherlock Holmes has eventually discovered for himself, Dr. John Watson is  _incapable_ of being burned.

Of course, we do not mean this literally, for Dr. Watson is, after all, a mortal human being like the rest of us. And yet it is precisely that fact which makes us wonder: how has such an utterly ordinary man become the other half of the greatest partnership the world has ever known?

In order to arrive at an acceptable conclusion, we must proceed with our analysis in a systematic manner. And we shall do so by returning to our metaphor of equating Sherlock Holmes with the element of fire. And in order to ascertain exactly  _why_ Dr. Watson cannot be burned by Sherlock Holmes, we must outline the various corresponding reasons why a certain element cannot be destroyed by fire. Fortunately, these instances are few, because we can then examine each one thoroughly.


	5. The Source

Firstly, this occurs when an element is in fact the source of the fire. We can immediately ascertain that John Watson does not properly fit this definition. Sherlock Holmes has been his clever antisocial self long before he has ever met John Watson, and it is highly unlikely that he will change—even though he has now acquired a friend with the patience of a saint and who puts up with all of his quirks and eccentricities and highly dangerous hobbies. It's simply who he is, and Sherlock Holmes will not change for anyone, not even for Dr. Watson. However, now that we have brought up the point, we wonder what—or who—can possibly be the source of this fire, the spark that ignites the flame of Sherlock Holmes' mind.

Intuitively, we know that at his very core, what makes Sherlock Holmes positively  _alive_ is the scintillating challenge presented by puzzles. These, however, do not walk up to him to present themselves. And whether it's because he has also inherited a relatively smaller amount of the laziness inherent in his brother, or because he simply has far too much pride (which can  _also_ be attributed to his brother), Sherlock Holmes cannot be bothered to go out and  _look_  forthese puzzles himself. He simply can't afford to waste the time or energy. It is fortunate, therefore, for all parties involved, that the fire of Sherlock Holmes' brilliant mind will always be sparked by one very determined and  _very_ stubborn Detective Inspector Lestrade.

Sherlock Holmes does not live in a vacuum, no matter how much he deems it more preferable. There are people who need his help, and even though he fancies himself as a sociopath, there are also people who care for him. DI Lestrade's role in Sherlock Holmes' life is to remind him of both. He is one of the few people who not only genuinely cares for Holmes' general well-being, but one who also has a grudging respect for the man whom the police has come to depend so heavily on. And there is a reason why Lestrade is able to simultaneously swallow his pride at Sherlock's scathing remarks on the incompetence of the Yard  _and_ purposefully shield Sherlock from his fellow officers who inevitably lash out at the consulting detective's careless insults. It is the same reason why Sherlock Holmes is the one Lestrade desperately turns to when the police has hit a dead end in their investigations.

It is because there exists an unspoken understanding between the two men: both take their work very seriously because both are driven by an inherent sense of justice. The only difference is that Lestrade's notion of justice is heavily driven by law, while Sherlock's Holmes concept of what is right and what is wrong is not confined to what is legal and illegal; Sherlock Holmes follows his  _own_ idea of what people do and do not deserve. In this sense, Holmes is more similar to Moriarty than he is to Lestrade. What makes Holmes more connected with Lestrade, however, is that when people do  _not_ get what they deserve, he  _cannot_ leave it alone. When the police has given up on a case, it is almost tantamount to leaving a puzzle unsolved, and for Sherlock Holmes that is completely  _unacceptabl_ e.

 _This_ is why Lestrade will always ask for his help in solving cases, and therefore inadvertently presenting Sherlock with an unending supply of fuel to feed his voracious mind. Certainly there will be other clients who will personally appeal to Sherlock directly, but these people, while undoubtedly significant, will always be transitory. Lestrade, on the other hand, is an unyielding constant. For as long as Lestrade is a man of the law who continues to defiantly pursue justice, Sherlock Holmes' mind continues to burn and keep him  _alive._ DI Lestrade's unwitting and indisputable role in the mad genius' life is to be one of the primary sources of Sherlock Holmes' fire. It is a unique position which cannot be replaced even by the good doctor.

If such is the case, then what does Sherlock Holmes need Dr. Watson around for? We shall now try to narrow down the answer as we move on to the next factor in our study.


	6. The Insulator

Another reason why a certain material is indestructible by fire is when it's inherently  _resistant_ to the element as an insulator of sorts. Again, we can immediately conclude that this is perhaps not the best metaphor to describe the good doctor with. John Watson is a soldier who's been drilled to follow orders, and it seems that in the context of John's new battlefield in the heart of London he has deemed Sherlock Holmes worthy of obeying. He lets Sherlock take the lead as he follows almost unthinkingly, his trust unerringly absolute in a man who dives headfirst into a mystery without heeding the possible consequences. He is immediately defensive of Sherlock whenever anyone insults him or tries to hurt him, and he is loyal to such a massive fault that James Moriarty has already mockingly dubbed him as Sherlock Holmes'  _pet_. And as much as Sherlock Holmes is all too willing to risk his own life in his quest for truth and knowledge, John Watson doesn't think twice when it comes to sacrificing himself  _for Sherlock Holmes._

Indeed, it seems that most of the people in Sherlock Holmes' life are helpless to stop his fire from overcoming them. Even a man of authority such as DI Lestrade eventually relinquishescontrol of the reins and reluctantly hands it over to Sherlock when it becomes apparent that it's the only way to drive the case forward. And even the elusive James Moriarty is lured out of his well-protected comfort zone by the irresistible flicker of Sherlock Holmes' commanding brilliance.

There is a reason, however, why there is one man whom Sherlock Holmes  _especially_ calls his  _arch_ enemy. This is a man who is not only willing and able to  _resist_ Sherlock Holmes, but a man whom Sherlock himself might grudgingly admit (with a whirlwind of fits and the darkest of sulks hitherto unseen from even the most unruly child) as  _the_ smartest  _and_ most dangerous man in London. After all, this is a man who is actually equated with the  _British Government_ itself. And it is a terrifying reminder to never underestimate the power of the Holmes genes, for  _of course_ the only man who can face up to Sherlock in the same level is another Holmes. The perfect insulator for Sherlock Holmes' fire is none other than the brother who constantly worries: Mycroft Holmes.

Neither brother may appreciate or even recognize the fact, but perhaps it is a blessing in disguise that Mycroft is afflicted with the lethargy that comes with his highly superior intellect, a trait that Sherlock absolutely  _loathes._ Andif only the brothers will bother to delve deeper into this fact, they will discover how it had been necessary for nature to allocate the Holmes genes accordingly in order for Sherlock and Mycroft to differ from each other in  _this_. For if we have ended up with not one, but  _two_ unstoppable Holmeses with the same blazing energy running around in London, the city will have been in flames by the end of the night—and this isn't necessarily a metaphor. And perhaps what is most important in having Sherlock's archenemy be his incredibly intelligent yet hopelessly lazy brother is that Mycroft Holmes understands most intimately the danger Sherlock poses to  _himself._

It is clear from the outset that Sherlock Holmes is a man who is used to getting his way. From there it is no difficult leap to imagine the many,  _many_ ways Sherlock Holmes dances with death. He deals with crime on a daily basis. He performs hazardous experiments in the name of science. He faces assassins head-on and willingly rouses the ire of people in power just to get the answers he seeks. He forgoes basic human needs such as food and sleep when they become too distracting during cases—never mind that doing so is completely detrimental to his already precarious health. And to cap it all off, he has also been known to fall back into recreational drugs.

It is no wonder, therefore, that despite his undoubtedly endless responsibilities, Mycroft Holmes has found the time to kindly kidnap his little brother's new acquaintance simply to test the latter's reasons for moving in with such a difficult and exasperating genius. This is why, even under the pretext of presenting a top-secret case of "national importance," Mycroft is still the first to arrive at the scene when the house across 221 B explodes and nearly takes down Sherlock with it. Because regardless of their petty, childish feud, it remains factually accurate that Mycroft Holmes is simply  _worried_ about his baby brother. And like any practical, sobering, overprotective elder sibling, Mycroft Holmes knows that it is up to him to prevent Sherlock Holmes from burning his way through London and consequently burning  _himself_ out. And what better way to insulate his brother's fire than being the puppet master within the British government itself, pulling strings to allow just enough leniency to let his brother work his genius where it is needed.

Therefore, the logical conclusion at this point is that Mycroft Holmes, with his level-headed authority, is the one who can perfectly counteract the obsessive passion of Sherlock Holmes. Then why is it John Watson who has subtly but stubbornly eased himself into his place by Sherlock's side? Why is it John Watson who has become—in every sense of the word—Sherlock Holmes' partner?


	7. The Threat

Let us now return to a crucial matter that we have mentioned previously: Dr. Watson is the third point of divergence that distinguishes Sherlock Holmes from fellow specialist James Moriarty. In fact, what we need to stress above all is the unbelievably perfect  _timing_ of Dr. Watson's arrival in Sherlock's life. Whether there have been deities or supernatural forces or fates at work, it is undeniable how  _life-changing_ it has been for the consulting detective to have met his gentle soldier  _before_  the consulting criminal has sweetly whispered in his ear: "We were made for each other."

It is remarkable how James Moriarty has so much in common with the Holmes brothers. We have already noted down his similarities with the younger Holmes; yet it is somewhat more fascinating and infinitely more  _frightening_ how he is also very much like Mycroft Holmes. Like the consulting criminal, Mycroft Holmes has a vast network of men and women working for him, and can in many ways manipulate his surroundings—phone booths and CCTV's being the  _least_ of them—while still remaining virtually undetectable. The elder Holmes also has that same cool detachment and air of superiority that Moriarty exudes.

And yet  _unlike_ Mycroft Holmes, James Moriarty is all too gleefully willing to let Sherlock have his way, letting him dance all around London as they both play their little game. James Moriarty functions so much like Mycroft Holmes, and yet he also  _understands_ Sherlock Holmes in a way that his brother never did. He can present Sherlock with tantalizing puzzles that even DI Lestrade can't hope to compete with his boring old cases. And there is that fleeting sense of wonder that has passed over the consulting detective's gaze when the consulting criminal has told him how perfect they are for each other. It is therefore easy,  _so_ easy, to imagine how Moriarty could've supplanted everyone else in Sherlock's life.

James Moriarty is the perfect metaphor to use when we say that he is the  _threat_  to Sherlock Holmes' fire. It is not so much that he can douse the flame of Sherlock's intelligence than the very real possibility of him  _extinguishing_ everything Sherlock Holmes ever believed about himself. Sherlock's morals may be questionable at the best of times, but we must remember that this is a man who  _cannot_ let go of the possibility that a champion swimmer has been murdered, not just because of the intrigue the dubious circumstances has presented, but also because he is  _disturbed_ by how the death of an innocent young boy can so easily be put aside and forgotten while the killer remains happily at large for twenty-one years. And yet when finally Sherlock Holmes comes face-to-face with Karl Powers' mysterious murderer… he is  _fascinated._

Sherlock Holmes  _knows_  that the one thing he  _wants_ and  _needs_ and  _loves_ most in the world is the delight in solving puzzles, and all his life he has  _believed_  that there is no other job that will give him that satisfaction than other being a consulting detective. And yet beyond all of his expectations, Sherlock Holmes has discovered through James Moriarty another profession  _that he has never even considered possible until it is presented to him._ It has never once occurred to Sherlock Holmes that should he choose to, he can walk down the path of the consulting criminal— _and be all the more liberated for it._ He can work without the limitations of the Yard's laws or the precautions of the British Government. And most of all, not only can he  _solve_ puzzles—he can  _create_ them.

Sherlock Holmes finds himself  _attracted_ to the unexplored sphere of being a consulting criminal, and it is that attraction that  _terrifies_ him. Because until the moment he has met James Moriarty, Sherlock Holmes has never known that he is actually  _capable_ of being a consulting criminal himself until he has faced the man who  _chose_ that profession. And had James Moriarty succeeded in his game of awakening that dormant darkness quietly waiting inside the cold depths of the consulting detective, the brilliant Sherlock Holmes we all know might have been lost forever.

Of course, we can all breathe easy with the irrefutablefact that this is one possibility that will never transform into reality—not when James Moriarty made the irredeemable mistake of underestimating Dr. John Watson.


	8. The Conductor

What  _is_ Dr. Watson's role in Sherlock Holmes' mad world? In many ways, he fills in the gaps that Sherlock overlooks both in his work  _and_ in his life. He is a flatmate who takes care of the small domestic matters that Sherlock can't be bothered with, such as paying the bills and buying groceries and cooking and cleaning. He is a biographer, a blogger, the reason for the consulting detective's fame as much as Sherlock himself. He is an assistant who takes care of the more pragmatic matters of the problem: taking pictures, scribbling notes, asking Sherlock the right questions which ultimately lead to the right answer. He is an extra pair of eyes and ears when Sherlock works on his cases, his twin skills of being a doctor  _and_ a soldier undeniably useful in Sherlock's dangerous profession as a consulting detective. He is Sherlock's protector, his British Army Browning L9A1 only appearing when he is ready to  _kill_ for his friend. He is Sherlock's healer, the one who looks after Sherlock's physical well-being when it is being willfully neglected by the consulting detective. He is Sherlock's wing man, the one who confirms Sherlock's observations through his respected expertise as a medical practitioner, and the one who apologizes on Sherlock's behalf whenever social niceties are tactlessly replaced by frank and brutal honesty. And perhaps his most important role in the consulting detective's life is one that we have already pointed out: he is the audience to Sherlock Holmes' genius, the sounding board that helps the consulting detective think  _better_. (A skull just attracts attention, after all.)

It seems, therefore, that we have finally established Dr. Watson's role: he is the conductor of heat and light that allows the fire of Holmes' genius to flow freely. And yet— _and yet—_ we instead arrive at another paradox. Because even as we list down Dr. Watson's numerous functions in Sherlock Holmes' life, we realize that these  _do not make John special at all._ For if Sherlock Holmes chooses to, all of John Watson's roles can easily be replaced by anyone  _else._

Mrs. Hudson can easily do the things John does for Sherlock as the practical flatmate or the caring healer; after all, she's already the kindly matron who takes care of her unruly boys on a regular basis, even though she has to constantly remind them that she's their landlady, not their housekeeper. John's role as Sherlock's assistant or his wing man is similar to what Sergeant Sally Donovan and "Anthea" do for DI Lestrade and Mycroft Holmes respectively; and at the same time, these men who work for Scotland Yard and the British Government have already been protecting Sherlock long before the detective has realized he is in need of it. And if only Sherlock learns how to curb his scathing tongue, he might earn the invaluable assistance of people like Anderson who work in forensics, much in the way he gets vital information (and awkward infatuation) from Molly Hooper at St. Bart's. Sherlock also already has his countless indispensable eyes and ears all over the city through his homeless network and people like Angelo who owe him a favor (in exchange for their freedom and quite possibly their life). Moriarty, in his own twisted way, might even be a much more effective biographer and sounding board when it comes to making Sherlock famous and helping him exercise his already unstoppable brain. And the most disturbing parallelism above all is that John Watson's primary role in Sherlock Holmes' life is not much different from who Sebastian Moran is to James Moriarty; they are both conductors of two of the most powerful intellectual forces in history.

We are now presented with the most bewildering paradox of all. If John Watson is indeed so  _replaceable_ , then why hasn't anyone dared or have been able to replace his unyielding position by Sherlock Holmes' side? Indeed, why hasn't Sherlock deemed anyone else  _worthy_ of being his partner? And if the uncanny similarity between Watson and Moran as devoted acolytes is further proof of the blurring line between consulting detective and consulting criminal, what makes John Watson so utterly  _unique_ that it is  _his_ crucial role in the detective's life which ensures that Sherlock will  _never_ cross the line and  _become_ Moriarty?


	9. The Metaphor

And it is here that Sherlock might break into a proper, genuine smile, for we are  _finally_ asking the right questions. Because as much as Sherlock Holmes defies the planes of normal human intellect, this unassuming army doctor seems to defy human  _logic_ altogether, for it is almost unbelievable how all these paradoxes can coexist in one Dr. John Watson. And yet if we cease thinking too hard about it, we will realize that the reason why John will  _always_  be by Sherlock's side is simplicity itself, and it is for this reason that Sherlock is endlessly fascinated with and eternally grateful to his Boswell.

We have begun with the feasible hypothesis that John Watson is incapable of being burned; yet in using that metaphor we have already rejected all plausible reasons of  _why_ this is so. It does not seem apt nor enough to describe John Watson as a source, an insulator, a threat to or even a conductor of Sherlock Holmes' fire. And yet this is where the most intriguing paradox makes itself known. Because there is a fifth aspect that none of those four elements have, one that is unique to John Watson alone. And it is through this unique characteristic that John Watson becomes capable of being  _all_ of the above while remaining to be _none_ of the above or confined to just one or a few. He is  _the_ source,  _the_ insulator, _the_ conductor and  _the_ threat to Sherlock's fire all in one—and in doing so he is at the same time  _neither of those four_  and becomes something wholly new and  _different._ He is the element in which Holmes' fire becomes dependent on, as he steers it without controlling it, fuels it while confining it, and restrains it without smothering it.

John Watson is the  _air_ to Sherlock Holmes' fire.

In themselves, the element of air and the element of fire already have a curious and complex relationship. There is a precise and very precarious sense of balance that has to be maintained, for the fire will die in the absence of this other element which is necessary to its being; and yet at the same time the  _continued_ existence of this fire relies on the actual strength of  _both_  elements, for a strong gust of wind can either extinguish a weak spark or enflame a great blaze. The element of air has the remarkable feature of being both a fueling source  _and_ a threat to a fire that will  _let_ it. It also has similar functions to a limiting insulator, for a flame can burn only as long and as far as the air travels, its scope and breadth limited by the air which surrounds it; and yet the wind can also turn into a fierce conductor when it carries that flame within its gales and lets it blaze through more swiftly and strongly than if it had been burning on its own.

In themselves, these two elements are already powerful forces to be reckoned with. To now  _transform_ these elements into a metaphor that reflects the partnership of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson… the implications are  _phenomenal._

 


	10. The Power

John may not be the one to provide Sherlock with the puzzles he  _craves,_ the intellectual stimulation and work he  _needs_ more than breathing. But John can give him something better: deep, sincere, heartfelt admiration. It's not merely respect for the work Sherlock does and its impact on other people's lives and the city's safety and security, although it is partly that. It's not even merely the recognition of Sherlock's singularity, of the knowledge that witnessing the brilliant way his mind works is nearly tantamount to witnessing an honest-to-God  _miracle_ , although it's partly that as well. Because Sherlock, being the narcissistic and arrogant  _genius_ that he is, already knows all of that.

But what John has been able to show him is the surprising revelation that perhaps it's not so wrong to be so different. That he's not just a freak, not just an abomination or an accident of nature, not just someone that everyone ends up hating because he can't  _help_ but see and learn and know  _everything._ John has shown him real, pure, unabashed admiration not just for what he does or what he's capable of, but simply  _for who he is._ He doesn't have to change, doesn't have to conform, doesn't even have to pretend. And John, dear Dr. Watson, actually loves him all the more for it. Whenever people start to doubt Sherlock, and that fire in his brilliant mind begins to flicker and wane, it's John's honest belief and deep-rooted faith in him that keeps Sherlock going. And nothing, not even the most riveting and tantalizing of puzzles, can fuel his fire more strongly than John breathlessly uttering the words  _fantastic, brilliant, amazing…_ and actually  _meaning_ them. John may not have that ability to create that spark in Sherlock's beautiful brain, the one that illuminates all the dark corners shadowed by Moriarty's handiwork. But John can  _keep that fire burning_.

John is not in a position of power and authority to make the rest of the world bend to his will, and he cannot ensure that Sherlock will be protected from the world or that the world will be protected from Sherlock. But John can do better: he can insulate Sherlock's fire by making him stop through his own choice. John is the only one brave and honest enough to tell Sherlock when he's being an idiot and prove to him that sometimes he can be  _wrong._ He questions Sherlock's judgment, convinces him to rethink solutions and makes him reevaluate the consequences of his actions. He is Sherlock's moral compass not just in the way he  _proves_  that ethics and empathy  _do_ go hand in hand with reason and logic, but also in the way that John respects the detective's pride: John never orders him or directs him, but simply  _guides_ Sherlock into making the right choices by connecting the decisions of his mind with the decisions of his heart. And he reminds Sherlock that he may be the only consulting detective in the world, but he's not the only  _person_  inthe world; he reminds Sherlock that he cannot act as selfishly as he would have liked, not just because he should care for other people, but because there are people who actually get hurt as well whenever he hurts  _himself—_ because people do care for him too. When John makes Sherlock stop, John doesn't just make him think; John makes him  _feel._

It is this bittersweet irony which makes John a threat to Sherlock even more than Moriarty. The consulting criminal may have the power of overturning Sherlock Holmes' entire being, but John Watson is capable of a much more destructive power. And it is only during that fateful encounter by the pool that these three men realized that John has already unknowingly made use of it. Decked in a semtex vest wreathed with explosives, calmly stepping out into the tiled floor, softly mouthing words dictated to him by the ventriloquist behind the shower room… it is  _this_  sight of John that has made Sherlock suddenly, shockingly, very  _painfully_ aware of a fact that he at first refused to believe in but which he now cannot deny.

 


	11. The Proof

John has once proven with a clean shot through the window of a building meters away that he is willing to  _kill_  for Sherlock. As John  _instinctively_ immobilizes Moriarty and tells Sherlock to run and  _leave_ , he's now shown Sherlock that he's willing to  _die_ for him. But it's not the fact that someone cares deeply for him that surprises Sherlock; he may be a selfish idiot sometimes but he  _knows_ that people  _do_  care for him, even if he doesn't understand  _why_. Just because he doesn't acknowledge it doesn't mean he doesn't  _know_  that he's being looked after, cared for, protected, cherished _._

_Loved._

And yet in that moment when John readily places  _his entire being_ in Sherlock's hands, John has viciously turned the tables. As his gaze darts around the room agitatedly and the hands holding John's Browning become less steady, Sherlock finds himself in the unbalanced position of  _being_ the one who  _wants_ to protect, the one who cherishes, the one who  _cares._ And not in that distant, professional manner he usually employs, but in that marrow-deep, gut-wrenching,  _mind-stopping_  realization that someone else matters to him more than his own life. John has single-handedly stripped away all of Sherlock's defenses which has allowed him to  _pretend_ , because John isn't fooled, and he has now proven once and for all—even to the man himself—the one simple truth: Sherlock Holmes is  _human._ He's a brilliant man, an otherworldly genius, an unbelievable force of nature… but he's  _human_. And all at once, Sherlock Holmes is  _vulnerable,_ and his fire is now reduced to dying embers. Moriarty knows this.  _John_ knows this. And Sherlock knows that precise moment when all three of them realized it. Moriarty may be the one to kill him. But John is the only one who can  _destroy_ him.

John  _knows_  this. He isn't a genius, but he also isn't an idiot, and he  _knows._ This is why he's the other half of this partnership. This is what makes him rise above the rest, what makes him  _different_ from everyone else in Sherlock's life and his mad,  _mad_ world. He may be an ordinary man who isn't in possession of the right skills or the best resources to care for Sherlock, and he cannot protect Sherlock as thoroughly as Mycroft or even Lestrade.  _Anyone_ can do the things he does for Sherlock—perhaps even better. But he stays with Sherlock not because of professional courtesy, filial responsibility or even out of a twisted sense of moral obligation. He's the only one who stayed with Sherlock… by  _choice._

 


	12. The Truth

John carries and enflames Sherlock's fire more effectively than anyone else can, because he's with Sherlock every step of the way. He may not be able to protect Sherlock from the threats surrounding him, but he can  _brave_ those dangers  _with_ him. Sherlock may surge ahead of him both physically and mentally, but John can make sure that Sherlock will always stay on the right track, factually  _and_ ethically. And even if Sherlock leaves him behind (and Sherlock does—time and time again) John will always,  _always_ follow him. The pretentious walls Sherlock's superhuman intellect has built may have crumbled now that Sherlock has allowed John to be  _this_  close, but John will  _always_ be there to stand between Sherlock and the world if he needs to (and John does—time and time again). Because of all the mad people drawn into the orbit of Sherlock's fiery gravitational pull, John is the only one who stays with Sherlock simply because he  _wants_ to. No expectations, no hidden agendas, no strings attached. And for better or for worse, John will never leave Sherlock alone ever again.

Because somehow, between limping into St. Bart's and chasing after a cab  _on foot_ , something has  _changed_ in Dr. John Watson. The cane is forgotten as he leaps across the rooftops of London and the stifled cries of his nightmares are replaced by giggles at crime scenes. After being declared  _useless_ in Afghanistan (because what use does anyone have for a soldier who can't even walk straight or an army surgeon who can't even keep his hands steady?), John has found another purpose in 221 B Baker Street with the most extraordinary and exasperating and  _beautiful_ man he has ever met. Sherlock Holmes seems  _beyond_ human—and sometimes, it's what the man himself believes. And he forgets what is most important. And this— _this_ is Dr. John Watson's role in Sherlock Holmes' life: to remind this seemingly inhuman being that he  _does_ have a heart.

John is a benevolent man who is ready to kill for and die for all that he believes is good in this world. Once upon a time, that had been for Queen and country. Now, it's for Sherlock Holmes. And as powerful as killing for him and dying for him are, it's not nearly as earth-shattering as  _living_ for Sherlock. It's why John keeps running through his psychosomatic pain and why he keeps a firm hold on his revolver despite the scar on his shoulder. It's why John has been able and will continue to fight his owndemons and ghosts. Because John is not merely existing or surviving anymore. He is finally  _living_ again. And it is  _Sherlock_ who has given him back that life, that purpose, that damnably powerful will to  _live._ And this, more than anything, is what reminds Sherlock that he will never be Moriarty. He will always be a  _better_ man than him. He's a great man. And more importantly, Sherlock Holmes is a  _good_ one.

And for one hundred and twenty-four years, Dr. John Watson has been reminding Sherlock Holmes of that fact _._ Because Sherlock Holmes still forgets, sometimes, and it is likely that hundreds of years from now he will  _still_ keep on forgetting. And yet in forgetting, he keeps on giving John a reason to live. And in living, John will never let Sherlock forget. It's a curious paradox, one that has seemed impossibly complex.

But we have already eliminated the impossible. And despite how improbable the answer we have is, it must be the truth.

Hasn't it been such a worthy puzzle to solve?

 


End file.
